


True Colors

by TheEnvy



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Horror, Mystery, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:37:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10042928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEnvy/pseuds/TheEnvy
Summary: Suffering from a strange and debilitating disease, Lucian hasn't accomplished much during his secluded life. Having never owned a Pokemon due to his illness, all he can really take pride in is his mother Sabrina, the Mistress of Psychic Pokemon and Saffron City's famed Gym Leader. Lucian's life takes a turn when two Police Officers show up at his door late one night, along with two of their Pokemon, a Gardevoir and Ninetails.The cops have just one simple question: Where is Sabrina?





	1. Knock, Knock!

One of Lucian's favorite hobbies was reading. On his piddling list of treasured activities, reading came second only to sleeping.

'At least ten hours a day,' that was his modus operandi and rarely did he deviate. Not that he had very many options. Snoozing like a Snorlax was a distraction to the rest of his life which, at the moment, wasn't all that engaging and hadn't been for about as long as he could remember. As a bonus, sleep also made the hands on the face of time crawl by a little faster.

If today sucked, maybe tomorrow would be better. Lucian liked to think of himself as an optimist.

Sleeping. Or trying to. That's precisely what he was currently in the process of doing. Unfortunately, his bladder beckoned some time ago, rousing him from sleep's sweet embrace.

Lazy as a Slakoth, it took him maybe a half-hour to drag himself out of bed. But who was counting?

Heavy rain battered against the bathroom skylights above. Not a glint of light funneled through.

"What time is it?" Lucian mumbled drowsily. He couldn't tell if it was the dead of night or just a dreary day. Not that it really mattered.

As the water whooshed in the toilet, he thought he heard something downstairs.

Tiptoeing down the spiral staircase, he found the dark-haired intruder in the kitchen. Standing with her back turned behind the stove, he noticed that she was armed with a spatula.

He sneaked up behind her.

"Boo!"

Releasing a sharp scream, the intruder pirouetted like a ballerina and glanced down at his mirth with disapproving eyes. Despite their being the same pair he had known his entire life, the cerise hue of her irises never ceased to amaze him.

"Hello, mother."

She tried to stifle a grin, but failed miserably. "Lucy, you scared the crap of me," she said, sounding a mixture of cross and happy. "What are you doing up so early?"

"About that," he said, yawning and shamelessly scratching the crack of his ass. "Is it early in the morning or early in the evening?"

She laughed with amusement, though Lucian noted they were strained with exhaustion. "It's just past six." When he began pouting, she giggled again. "Sorry, sleepyhead, silly me. Six in the p.m.!"

"P.M.," Lucian echoed, his eyebrows skyrocketing. Debating whether he should ask, he frowned. After a moment of consideration, he decided to do it. "How long have you been home?"

She looked hesitant to provide an answer. "I got off a few hours ago," she admitted after a few seconds.

His lips sank further. All this time he had been lying in bed, wide-fucking-awake, while she was home. "We could have spent the afternoon together," he said, hung up on the missed opportunity. "I wish you'd woken me up when you got in."

A small, sad grin formed on her waxen face. "I'm sorry, Lucy. I just woke up a few minutes ago, myself. Like you, I ended up falling asleep."

The dark circles under her eyes told Lucian everything he needed to know.

"Ah, well, that makes sense," he garbled, unable to shake the guilt of his display of insolence. He glanced at the partially-prepared meal sitting on the counter. "Hey, you should grab some more sleep. Whatever your cooking, I can finish it."

Without her consent, verbal or otherwise, he gently stole the spatula from his mother's grip. Moments after he did, it wiggled in his hand. Then, it wrenched completely free. Soaring through the air, it slowed until returning to its previous home in his mother's grip. "You get enough sleep for the both of us, Lucy," she teased, her cerise eyes twinkling. "I have a better idea. How about we finish breakfast together?"

A genuine smile came to Lucian's face. "Breakfast. Don't you mean dinner?"

She complimented his smile with one of her own. "I just woke up from a marathon two-hour nap, Lucy. Feels like a new day to me, and this being the first meal of the day makes it breakfast."

As Lucian wolfed down the ample helpings of food in his plate like a vacuum cleaner, he couldn't help from noticing his mother's frequent glances to the Holocaster positioned on the table next to her napkin.

"How's the grub?" he asked.

Poking laboriously at her plate with her fork, she glanced up and blushed. Her mouth full, she nodded enthusiastically and held up her finger for him to wait.

He forced a laugh.

"It's delicious, Lucy," she told him after another minute of savoring mastication. "Really, you're becoming quite the chef."

"Thanks," he said before locking onto her gaze. "You've got to go, don't you?"

Her smile slipped. "I've got to be back at the Gym by eight o'clock," she said bluntly.

"I knew it," Lucian groaned.

His mother arose from her seat, making the vinyl floor groan as the legs of the chair scraped against them. "There's a Trainer who booked a Battle at eight. I just skimmed the dossier on her. It's hard to tell for sure, but she looks like the real deal. I'd better be waiting for her if and when she cruises to the finish line."

Lucian tried his best hide his bitterness. "I understand," he said.

Sometimes, he wished his mother wasn't the Saffron City Gym Leader. It wasn't easy for him, and it had certainly taken its toll on her in more ways than one. All the Gyms in the Kanto region operated twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. His mother's Gym was no exception. As its esteemed leader and the Marsh Badge's last line of defense, technically she was on duty round-the-clock.

His mother made a move for his plate. "I'll take care of it," he insisted. "Yours too. After all these years, if there's two things I'm good at it's cooking food and washing the dishes afterwards."

A wave of sadness washed over his mother's face. For a few moments, no words passed between them. Still seated at the table, through a sidelong glance he watched her slip into her jacket and adjust the Pokéballs fastened to her belt.

"Lucian."

He looked at her head on.

"If you're open to the idea…" she spoke carefully as if it was a touchy subject, "I'd like to set up an appointment with another doctor."

His eyebrows furrowed. "I just saw Dr. Muro last month."

"Dr. Muro is a charlatan!" She exclaimed before shaking her head. "I just think you need a new doctor, that's all. And…a few days ago, I noticed that you haven't been taking your medicine."

"Yeah, I stopped popping those pills few weeks ago," he said, feeling guilty that she had to make this discovery for herself instead of him being open about it. "They don't do anything but give me insomnia."

Pulling up a chair, she sat down at the table again and rubbed his arm affectionately. "We're going to beat this thing, Lucy. Never stop believing that. And never stop praying to Arceus about it."

"Yeah, I know," he said, not in the mood for this sort conversation.

She squeezed his hand. "I'd better go."

"I know that, too," he said, laughing. She joined him. "See yah later, mother."

Sabrina arose and, hunching down, hugged him tightly. "Goodbye, Lucy."

"Can I say goodbye to Alakazam?" he said as she turned away to leave.

"Oh! Of course."

His mother held up the Pokéball which harbored her most powerful beast; the famed Alakazam of the Psychic Mistress. How he wished he could meet the creature face to face. Or meet a Pokémon of his very own, for that matter. His mother left the house just a few minutes past seven p.m. Traveling on foot and in the rain couldn't be fun. Even still, Lucian wished he could accompany her to the heart of the city.

After washing the dishes, Lucian slithered back upstairs to his room. Slumping down on the chair in front of his desk, he switched on his PC and began perusing the day's news.

Even at a glance, he could tell they reeked of sensationalist bullshit.

One headline shamelessly foisted this headline: Cynthia, Lance Favorites to Win Kanto Monster Tamer Championship, Unless Red Shows Up

Clickbait, at its finest. Even after all this time, some rose-tinted glasses wearing imbeciles still clung to the myth that Red was the most talented Trainer who ever lived. Legend. G.O.A.T. The Very Best. Sure, he was the youngest person to ever be become a Champion at seventeen, but the guy was a one-time Pokémon Champion. One and done. Nobody had seen him in going on two decades. Since then what had he accomplished? Nothing of merit, that was for sure. If by some miracle, he did rise from the proverbial grave and show up at the tournament, crusty at forty and rusty as all hell, he'd be knocked out in the first round.

A particularly raucous piece grabbed Lucian's attention. This wasn't yellow journalism. Not black comedy, either. The title read: Big Riddle Inn Fire Work of Arsonist

Lucian remembered reading about it last week. Four days' prior, at around 3:30 a.m., Blaine's lavish hotel on Cinnabar Island caught fire and, minutes later, burned down to the ground. At least twenty people perished in the flames; most of the victims had yet to be identified. Blaine himself, the elderly proprietor of the Big Riddle Inn and highly respected Fire Gym Leader, hadn't been seen since and was amongst the suspected dead, or as the reporter not so eloquently put it, "Those cooked to a crisp."

The whole situation was dreadfully ironic. According to the article, the authorities had now determined that instead of a horrible accident, it was "…evident that somebody torched the place." If there was veracity to those allegations, that meant twenty plus innocent people were murdered.

If that article made him sick to his stomach, this one had him rolling his eyes: Is Lt. Surge the Father of Sabrina's Love Child?

This ought to be good, he thought. The piece started out like this:

[Who is the father of Sabrina's love child, the nineteen-year-old recluse, Lucian? Long has the truth lived and breathed in the shadows. Over the years, dozens of men have come forward claiming to be the one who planted his seed inside her womb. All of these claims have since gone unsubstantiated, and The Psychic Mistress herself has refused time and time again to put the case to bed. This, of course, has forced myself and other brave journalists to seek the truth, of which we happily disseminate for public consumption. For it is our belief that the truth deserves to live and prosper. After many years of meticulous research and fact mining, we still have very little in terms of tangible evidence. Nevertheless, today we proudly present to our readership a big What If – that being – What If Lt. Surge is Lucian's father?

Surge and Sabrina were photographed together on numerous occasions twenty odd years ago. Out on Gym-related business, or were they hooking up? The answer to that is obvious. Clearly, one of these salacious trysts resulted in Sabrina's out of wedlock pregnancy. That's right. Think about it. Let it marinate.]

Lucian felt like banging his head on the wall. Who the fuck wrote this garbage, he thought before staring at the computer screen and losing himself in a reverie.

What if the Lieutenant really is my father?

A crack of submerged thunder sent his eyes scurrying away from the ridiculous online article.

Down, not up.

Was he hearing things? Perhaps it was just the heavy rain fueling his imagination.

No, there it was again. Three soft, distant notes.

It sounded like someone was rapping on the front door all the way downstairs.

It can't be mother, he reminded himself. Curious, he got up and sprinted down the hallway, and then a second, lengthier hallway before finally pacing alongside the railing overlooking the main lobby to his mother's mansion.

Another round of knocks sent the hairs on the back of his neck upright. From where he was standing, the knocking was more than a little obnoxious; the entire house seemed to tremble.

He tiptoed down the winding staircase. About halfway down, the mellifluous voice of an angel greeted his ears.

"Sabrina, we know you're in there! This is the police! Open up!"

An angel? No. Law enforcement? Ostensibly. That piqued Lucian's interest. Curiosity clashed with droplets of skepticism. Standing in front of the door, his clammy hand darted to the bolt above the knob. Shaky fingers caressed the cold metal. His breaths were short and arduous, and his heart pounded in his chest, turbulent and daring him to do it.

The door skidded open, at least as far as the chain would allow. A cool wind blew in through the separation, and the symphony of the tempest outside amplified. Lucian craned his neck, looking for the source of the disturbance. When he found it, he very nearly shrieked like a frightened little girl.

Enormous black eyes without irises goggled across from him.

"Why hello there, citizen."

Everything above Lucian's neck instantly flushed. Eyes? No, that was inaccurate. Those, his shambolic mind finally processed, were a pair of aviator glasses perched on the celestial nose of a very attractive woman.

"Mmmornin' mma'am…" Self-conscious of his steaming cheeks, he could barely squeeze the words out.

The lady at the door adjusted her hat. Decorated with an official looking insignia, it was of a navy-blue hue, much like the shoulder-length tresses that spilled below as well as the uniform wrapped tightly around her slim yet well-endowed womanly figure.

Gulping audibly, Lucian attempted language again. "An Officer Jenny...what, uh, can I do for you?"

"This is Sabrina's residence, correct?" she asked pointedly.

It didn't take long to process that question. "Yes, that's right."

She frowned. "So, who are you?"

"I'm her son, Lucian…"

"Her son?" She stroked her pointy chin. "Ah, yes, that's right. Sabrina is a mother." She grinned, baring a set of immaculate pearls which glowed starkly white in contrast to her tanned complexion. "Tell me son of Sabrina, is your mother home?"

Having few connections in the outside world and spending close to zero time with any member of the female species save for his mother, Lucian gawked at her sensual smile for a few seconds before coming to his senses. "I'm sorry Officer," he shook his head adamantly, "but if you're looking for the Mistress of Psychic Pokémon, you won't find her here. At this time of night, she's usually staffing at the Saffron City Gym. If it's neither particularly urgent nor classified information, I can deliver a message to–"

"I was just there," the Jenny interjected, frustration patent in her tone. "The Gym's leader was absent."

"Well, I'm not sure how long ago you left, but you must have just missed her. The schedule is booked for tonight, so she has to be there. As a matter of fact, I guarantee it."

The Officer adjusted her sunglasses, pushing them further up the bridge of her nose. "Listen," she sounded jaded now, "I have already been inconvenienced once this evening. Now we're caught in this wicked storm without, as you may have noticed, an umbrella. A roof under my head would be appreciated." She flashed her perfect teeth. "Depending upon how hospitable you are, I could also go for a cup of coffee. What do you think?"

Making a lady, and an Officer Jenny at that, stand outside in the rain – getting drenched – it was not how his mother raised him. It only took Lucian a few seconds to consider her proposal. "Do you have any Pokémon walking around with you?" he asked, his eyes widening upon spotting the trio of Pokéballs dangling at her hip.

"Three Pokémon accompany me, these days," she said, her nostrils flaring for some reason.

"But they're inside their respective balls, right?" he said anxiously. "One isn't prancing around somewhere next to you or," he tried to get a better look at her through the gap, "sitting on your shoulder?"

"That is correct," she replied.

"Okay, cool," he unlatched the chain. "Alright, you can come in…" His voice trailed off as someone else came into view.

The guy was tall, a whole half-a-head taller than Lucian who at six-feet three-inches was quite elevated himself. Slabs of muscle strained the seams of his navy-blue constable uniform. Slung around one of his burly shoulders was a bulgy-looking burlap sack. A monster of a man from the neck down, he possessed the strikingly soft, almost effeminate facial features of a male model.

The Officer Jenny introduced themselves as members of the Saffron City Police Department (SPD). "I am Officer Albina," she said, "and this is my deputy, Officer Einstein."

Lucian bowed to each of them respectfully. "Please, follow me," he said. Circumventing the staircase leading to the second floor, he took them to the enchanting ballroom his mother had reserved for guests a few times in years past. "Make yourselves at home," he even went so far as to pull out a chair for the each of them. Once they were seated and looking comfortable, he took a deep breath. "If you don't mind my asking," he said, still standing, "is something wrong, Officers? Why are you looking for my mother?"

The duo exchanged glances. Like the female Officer, a pair of broad black sunglasses were plastered over the eyes of her male counterpart. Despite being indoors, neither had bothered yet to remove them.

The Officer Jenny was clearly in charge, because she was always the one to orate. "Official Police business," she stated simply. "I'm afraid I cannot elaborate."

Lucian's lips formed a straight line. "I understand," he said, bobbing his head.

Just the way the light from the chandelier overhead cascaded down below, it painted the rims of the policewoman's sunglasses with a flashy glare. "I will divulge this," she said evenly. "We are conducting a criminal investigation and would just like to ask Sabrina a few questions. You're certain she isn't here?"

Lucian forced a smile. "I wouldn't stretch the truth, Officer Jenny. It's really just me holding down the fort in this big place."

The Jenny remained silent for several moments, her clenched hands resting on the glass surface of the table. She bobbed her head of blue hair slowly, and then threw him a gracious smile. "You have been very helpful, Lucian. Thank you for your cooperation. Before we depart, what is the status of that cup of coffee?"

"Oh shit, I almost forgot!" Lucian uttered before cupping his mouth. Grinning sheepishly behind his fingers, he dropped his hand when the Officer Jenny reacted to his cursing with a fit of cute feminine mirth. "I can make two, if he would like one," he offered, referring to the muscled policeman who had yet to utter a single word. Even still, Lucian was feeling less on edge and more comfortable around the both of them.

"That's sweet of you," the policewoman said approvingly. "We accept your kind offer."

"Two cups of coffee, coming right up," Lucian said with as much reverence as he could muster.

On his way to the kitchen, adrenaline ran through his body. For the first time in months, maybe years, he felt important, as if reenergizing these two Police Officers with a caffeinated beverage was a bona fide way of contributing to society. On top of that positive feeling, the Officer Jenny's cute smile stayed etched in his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about it, and about her.

At the same time, something else gnawed on his thoughts. He knew the men and women in blue consulted his mother on a regular basis. Sabrina being the most powerful Pokémon Trainer in the city by far, it made sense, but it was also her unofficial duty as a Gym Leader to help protect the local residents and infrastructure. With all the craziness he saw in the news lately, what was it this time?

He hardly heard it, the incessant, gravelly crunching sound of the coffee machine; despite filling the room, it did little to penetrate his thoughts. There was a lot on his mind, enough that when the machine ceased hiccupping, that fact went unnoticed for a good two or three minutes.

Carefully positioning the two cups on a tray, he bit his lip at the realization that he never actually asked his honorable guests if they held any preferences. He grabbed some cream and a bag of sugar for good measure.

"Sorry for taking so long…" Stumbling into the room, he stopped as if slamming into a brick wall. His jaw came loose. The tray nearly slipped out of his hands.

At the roundtable. Not two…but three seats were now occupied. There was the lady in blue, her athletic deputy, and now a third guest who was sitting with their back turned. Judging by the narrow shoulders, they had to be a she. Wispy azure tresses fell unevenly above a pale, slender neck.

For a fleeting moment, Lucian surmised it was another Officer Jenny. That initial impression was crushed the instant it swiveled in its unsanctioned seat.

The eyes that pierced his were orange as the sun, bright like it too, and inhuman.

Lucian screamed even before the pain arrived. His eyes fled, but by then it was too late. A blistering flame ignited within his retinas and spread back beyond them like wildfire.

In agony he screamed again, at the top of his lungs. The tray slipped from his grip and crashed to the floor. Streams of hot coffee spattered around his feet.

"N-no Pokémon are allowed inside this how-houz…" he heard himself hiss frantically as he cradled his head. His mouth parched, he swallowed in quick succession, hoping his saliva alone would be enough to irrigate the raw, arid sensation.

"I-I need you t-to r-returrr… you…y-your…" His words hit a barricade as his frenzied gaze stumbled upon a new horror. Underneath the table were the stately pair of gams that belonged to the Officer Jenny. But it wasn't those long legs bared beneath her skirt that ensnared his attention; it was the silhouette of something else lying next to them – something with eyes that smoldered like hot cinders.

The grip Lucian had on his temple rescinded. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. Even before he landed face-first onto the hard limestone floor, everything had already faded to black.


	2. The Masquerade

The three seated guests remained bound and fixated when the human – Lucian, as he was called – painted the floor with caramel coffee, while he screamed like he was getting possessed by a Ghost, and even a full half-a-minute after he nose-dived to the floor.

The Ninetails reacted first. Springing from underneath the glass table, he scurried hurriedly over to the human and nudged on one of his broad shoulders with the brunt of his muzzle.

No response.

Unable to resist the nagging urge, the Gardevoir was up next. Together, she and the Ninetails rolled the listless body onto its back. To protect his vulnerable neck, and to prevent the human from choking on any fluids, she cradled his head at a slight angle in her lap. His breathing was so soft that it seemed nonexistent. Pressing under his jawline, her slender fingers steadied after discovering the tiny tremors of a pulse.

Relieved that he was alive, a potent dose of regret simultaneously coursed her veins. Flowing purple hair, the chiseled jawline, his prominent dimples – he looked nothing like him and yet he, as male human, reminded her of him all the same. The eerily familiar scene made everything ten times worse.

"Our Fair Lady, is he dead?" Einstein's finely tuned virile voice echoed from across the spacious room.

"Let's hope not, my beloved," replied their Fair Lady.

Out of the corner of her eye the Gardevoir watched them approach, both of them pretty convincing police officers masquerading in those navy-blue costumes. "He's alive," she announced by means of telepathy, "just fainted."

When the Fair Lady stopped, so too did the clicking and clacking of her heels against the polished floor. "Be a dear and check him, Desiree."

Doing her bidding without question, Desiree the Gardevoir felt around the human's waist and thighs, searching for anything of interest. The bulge she found in one of his pajama pants pockets turned out to be his Holocaster.

"No Pokéballs?" Below her dark glasses, the Fair Lady gnashed her teeth in contemplation.

Still cradling the human's head in her lap, it was impractical for Desiree to be more thorough. Thus, Einstein was ordered to assist. Setting aside the burlap sack that seldom ever left his mighty grip, he squatted down and gave the human an additional pat-down.

To their Fair Lady's supplementary surprise, his search came up empty.

"…How bizarre," she murmured musingly. "Hmmm, we'd best conduct a cavity search. Desiree, I'll leave that to you."

Shock and awe enveloped the Fairy Pokémon's face before rapidly mellowing. This wasn't the most heinous act ever asked of her. Far from it, in fact. "As you wish," she said faithfully.

At that, the Fair Lady giggled mischievously. "Hold on…wait! That won't be necessary, dear sister. I do jest." She giggled again. "On a serious note, you're certain the Light bares nothing of interest? Perhaps you should double-check."

Having already reported her findings, or lack thereof, while the human had been out of the room brewing coffee, the Gardevoir nonetheless shut her eyes and listened intently with her mind once more. Pushing the Light to the edge of her limits, she hunted for the roaming thoughts of a furtive presence. In the span of a few minutes, all she could glean were the familiar feelings of Einstein, his focus concentrated intensely on something she left well alone, and those belonging to the Ninetails, which she respectfully avoided.

Eyes fluttering, the Gardevoir shook her head. "It's as I told you before," she glanced down at the blank face in her lap, "except for this human, we're alone in this place."

"You look paler than usual," the Fair Lady noted, senses sharp as knives. "Do you doubt your perception?"

"It's nothing, sister," the Gardevoir lied. "You know you don't have to worry about me."

"Good. Let's take a look around, shall we? We'll even take this poor fool with us." She grinned. "In fact, he can give us a tour!"

Einstein scooped Lucian off the floor and, to the Gardevoir's relief, out of her lap. To the weak and vulnerable, a gangly human like him might be considered imposing in stature. Draped over one of Einstein's chiseled shoulders, however, made him look no bigger than a Kirlia.

They wandered around for a bit. It was a sprawling mansion, with some rooms exhibiting a dense gothic opulence while others were severely lacking in décor, as if somewhere along the way of designing the home its owner lost her inspiration. Much to Einstein's bellowing amusement, their Fair Lady heckled the human with inquiries about the purpose of each room and their sundry furnishings.

Unconscious, Lucian never provided an answer.

Weaving their way around, they eventually came to an impressive spiral staircase. Highly detailed paintings of Pokémon sat suspended along the walls going up. Alakazam, Gengar, Hypno, Espeon, Venomoth, and a Mr. Mime with a rather voluptuous pair of breasts were amongst those who witnessed their ascent. These, Desiree surmised, were the creatures loyal to Sabrina. The only one that seemed out of place was the painting of a yellow mouse with blushing cheeks, a zigzagging tail, and furious dark eyes.

Exploring upstairs now, Desiree came to realization that the Ninetails had taken the reins. His tails swayed gently as he steered them deeper into the maze. Soon, they followed the swirling tails into a cluttered space with an unmade bed, a sprawling bookcase, and some kind of nerdy supercomputer which had been left turned on.

There was little doubt that this was Lucian's living quarters.

"Let's make the human comfortable," a small, withered voice said. It was first time all morning that the Ninetails had touched their minds with his thoughts. Despite his ancient age, he leapt up on the bed with a nimble grace. "Over here, Ditto," he whispered again by means of Psychic telepathy.

Einstein's physical reaction was near-instant. His face, which was immensely handsome for a human, dented. At any second it looked like he was going to burst into tears. "Don't call me that," he sniffled meekly.

"Alabaster!" Their Fair Lady's tone was a scolding one as she came to the Ditto's rescue. "You know he doesn't like it when you call him that…"

The Ninetails glared at the consolation unapologetically. "Deceiving others is a means to end, but to deceive thyself of thine own truth is to deny thyself of thine own potential. Thou knoweth this better than anyone, Lady Apollyon."

His candor rendered their Fair Lady momentarily speechless.

Motioning to the bed with his muzzle, "Prithee, Ditto, lay him here."

Obedient even while cracking like glass, Einstein lowered Lucian onto the bed.

"What's the point of this request?" The Fair Lady wanted to know. The gust from her throat was devoid of the playful mischief she occasionally reserved for them. "Not like he's awake to appreciate a pillow under his head. Or perhaps it's for the karma. Is that it? Well, now that you've got your good deed for the day, I say it's time we get this fool out of our hair. Einstein, a vacant Pokéball, please."

Still sniveling, the Ditto planted the burlap sack he was burdened to carry at his feet. It landed with a thud. After wiping his slushy nose with the sleeve of his uniform, he delved into the sack and procured a red and white sphere, of which he solemnly placed in the outstretched hand of their Fair Lady.

Preferring not to watch, Desiree looked away.

"Wait, my Lady," the Ninetails implored urgently, "He is not thine enemy."

"Of course he is!" she growled. "He's human filth. And not of the generic variant. Oh no, lest you forget this is the progeny of a Team Rocket captain."

The Ninetails remained stalwart in his opposition. "Humans art not inherently evil," he reasoned boldly. "Rid thyself of such baseness and save terrible vengeance for those who deserve it."

She gritted her teeth as if reconsidering, and then shook her head dismissively. "I won't waste our time babysitting him. His fate is sealed." She aimed the red and white spherical device it at the body lying like a corpse on the bed. "In this cage," she said, her sonorous voice surging, "you will rot!"

The Ninetails threw his emaciated quadruped frame over the human in an attempt to delay the casting of her hex. "Prithee, relent! Doth thee not sense it, Lady Apollyon? Or thee," his old eyes sprang elsewhere, "Princess?"

Desiree threw him a sympathetic look before her gaze converged with that of a foggy pair of glasses.

The Fair Lady frowned, as if taking notice. "Spare me the garrulous lecture, Alabaster," she said, her patience hanging by threads. "If you've caught wind of something I have not, share it and stop being such a sanctimonious old fox!"

Alabaster's muzzle turned and pointed to the quasi-corpse. "This human among us. The Flame breathing inside his heart. It shines bright with the Dark."

His words meant little to Desiree. For their Fair Lady, however, they had a catalytic impact. In an instant, she was stooping by the bed, her sharp nose parallel to Alabaster's elegant muzzle. Einstein quickly joined them. Curious, Desiree followed suit. For a time, no words passed between them, telepathic or otherwise. They just watched him lying there in supine position, a peaceful expression sewn onto his face. That is until, without warning, he grimaced and shuddered in his sleep before murmuring something she found wholly incomprehensible.

"I didn't get all of it," Einstein barked excitedly. "What'd he say? Something about death dying? What does that even mean?"

"Quiet!" their Fair Lady hissed before grabbing the Gardevoir around the arm above the fabric of her glove. Razor-sharp nails pinching against her flesh, it took everything Desiree had not to wince.

"Sister, his mind, I need you to try taking a peek. Do it, quickly now, sister!"

The Gardevoir did not hesitate. Placing her hand on the human's face, fingers fastening lightly over his spasming eyelids, she attempted to eat his dream.

Grimacing, she tried harder, but despite her best efforts she couldn't see anything. The harder she tried to traverse through the murk, the more it hurt. Unable to bear it any longer, she moaned outwardly before wrenching her hand away. In that moment of audible misery, her poise melted and with it, the levitation she exerted on her own body. Her feet hitting the floor, she would have fallen flat on her ass if not for Einstein who caught her around the waist.

Tears wetted her cheeks, which were left unchecked as she fought at the sudden globus sensation scraping at her throat. Blinking rapidly did little to improve her blurry vision. Her hearing, however, functioned properly.

"Did you see anything?" their Fair Lady asked pointedly.

"Yeah, my life, flashing before my eyes," Desiree replied with rays of indignation shining through.

"Forgive me," the Fair Lady said through an incongruous grin. "I had to know if his mind was ensconced by Dark."

Desiree squinted, eyes still raw. "So, you knew that would happen…sister?"

"Not exactly. If Ally was wrong about the human, you would have had yourself a delicious snack. But, it would seem he was right." She caressed a few of the Ninetails' elegant appendages. "You old fox! I should never have doubted your insight."

"What's so special about him?" Einstein asked, referring to the human. He sounded fascinated and at the same time, frustrated. As much as Desiree hated to admit it, she was too.

The Fair Lady's touch landed upon the bedridden body. When she touched him, his chest seemed to heave harder than before. "Let's just say that this is not your average human. The Dark embraces him for some reason." Her enduring grin widened. "I do wonder why, hehehe. Regardless, it would be foolish to believe we came here by mere happenstance. On the contrary, we were led here by a cosmic hand."

Einstein's mouth curved into the wide grin of a Ditto. "He guided us, didn't He?"

"There can no doubt, my beloved. For this grand discovery, let us express our gratitude to Him, our Great Redeemer, the Lord of Light and Dark."

Lady Apollyon bowed her head, as did Einstein whose shuddering excitement seemed to douse all internal turmoil and confusion. He did so enjoy participating in prayer. Desiree too bowed, though every so often she found herself stealing glances at the sleeping human.

You were defenseless, she thought, so how could you resist my Light? Why, why couldn't I invade your dream?

After extending their thanks to the Lord of Light and Dark, the four of them discussed strategy. The plan was simple enough. Sabrina wasn't at the Gym for suspicious reasons. Nonetheless, she had to return home eventually, and when she did, they would be waiting. As for Lucian, if the strange human awakened beforehand their masquerade would recommence, at least until his mother showed.

It was Desiree who, upon taking notice, informed the others. "I think he's waking up," she warned.

She was right. After a few short moments, the human's magenta eyes opened.


	3. Not Alone

Lucian was less woozy and more genuinely dumbfounded. Rubbing his eyes, he found himself experiencing difficulty processing the visual message they relayed.

Off the east coast of the bed was a uniform-clad police officer with medium-length complementary blue hair, a well-endowed feminine figure, and a bronzed skin tone. Rather tall for a woman, a bug-eyed pair of black sunglasses partially engulfed her angelic face.

Standing tall as a fucking skyscraper at the base of the bed was a male police officer. About as brawny as the average Machoke, he also donned a pair of sunglasses.

"The cops…yeah, I remember you guys. What happened...Officer Jenny?" Lucian groaned as molten lava spewed behind eyes.

"You passed out a little while ago," the Officer Jenny told him. "You know, we've been awfully worried about you."

Lucian's magenta eyes stooped to the spread of his mattress. "How did I get up here?" he asked, absorbing the familiarity. He then froze. In his peripherals, he saw it. No, them. "Officer Jenny," he began, his frenzied vision scuttling, "earlier, I asked you if you had any Pokémon with you..."

"I remember," she said coolly. "I told you, I travel with three."

"Well, if you recall I also asked if they were inside of their Pokéballs or out." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Are there a couple of them like, just a few feet away from me right now?"

The Officer Jenny shrugged. "Yes, that is correct."

Lucian started panting. He couldn't help it. He could feel his heart ricochet like a pinball above his ribcage, his blood pressure skyrocket into space, his brain turn to goo. The only thing that kept his mind anchored was the Officer Jenny, who extended to him an alluring white smile.

"Allow me to introduce you to them!" she crooned merrily. "This furry old fox you see here, with the adorable snout and what has to be a very cumbersome assortment of tails is, you guessed it, a Ninetails. His name is Alabaster. He might seem a bit bashful at first, but once you get to know him he will talk your head off."

Out of the corner of his wobbly eye, Lucian could make out the downy tendrils extending in a mess all along the other half of the bed. As for the creature they belonged to, the Fire type was sitting on his haunches not one foot away from his heaving chest.

"Well met, human," something small and withered breathed inside his skull. It was telepathy. Lucian ascertained that fact quickly enough. If not for the fear breeding in his heart, he might have reacted with interest and zeal.

"Now, you must be wondering if your eyes are deceiving you," the Officer Jenny continued, not taking the hint. "A beautiful Gardevoir here, in your household, and one with the royal blue hair and golden eyes of their nobility. Well, I assure you, she is real."

Lucian just barely suppressed a scream as his teetering, tempting eyes made contact. The bipedal Pokémon was floating there – right there – behind its Trainer.

"Lucian, her name is Desiree. Desiree, his name is Lucian." Her cute grin faltered slightly. "I feel like I'm the only one trying here. Desiree, help me out. Come on dear, don't be shy."

"Me? He's the one whose all... jittery and sweaty. Look at him."

"Now that you mention it, he's pale as a sheet. About as pale as you are, in fact." The policewoman waved her hand in front of his face. "Yoo-hoo, Lucian, can you hear me?"

Without thinking, he bolted up in the bed and clasped her around the arm. His knuckles whitened as he reeled her in close like he was a fisherman and she the catch on his hook. "I need you to return your Pokémon to their respective Pokéballs," he said to the sunglasses mere inches away, "Now, right now! If you don't," he grimaced, "I might die."

A colossal shadow coasted into the eastern corner of Lucian's vision. "You might also die if you do not remove your filthy hands from Our Fair Lady."

It was the first time Lucian had heard the policeman speak. This steroid-junkie wasn't playing around. If his threatening words weren't intimidating enough, his face had turned florid with rage.

Lucian's grip relented, but only partially due to her overprotective deputy's roid-rage. Putting his hands on a woman, despite his degraded condition it was wholly inappropriate and he couldn't believe that he'd done such a thing. "I-I'm sorry," he said, choking back a bastion of tears and hoping she wasn't shaken or offended. "I'll explain everything, but first, your Pokémon need to g-go. Please…"

"Do I get a say in this, human by the name of Lucian?" the Gardevoir asked, gracing his mind with enchanting words for a second time. "I would prefer not to be caged, thank you very much." Something about its telepathy rubbed him the wrong way. Taking umbrage with what its assertion, he didn't take too much time to ponder how it sounded.

"No Pokémon are allowed inside my mother's house," Lucian insisted, again wrangling with his temper. "I'm sorry you don't like your Ball, uh...Desiree...but as our guest, you have to follow our rules."

"Permit me ask, human. What is the purpose of this rule?" That question came from the bundle of golden-white fur on the bed next to him. Every so often, its swaying tails bushed against his arm.

"I'm…sick," Lucian admitted as he tried and failed to shuffle away from the furry pests.

"Sick?" The Officer Jenny said, sounding interested. "Sick, how?"

Where to begin, Lucian thought. He didn't want to bore them with his pathetic and lonely life story. In fact, he wasn't especially wanting to impart any of it at all. But, at the same time, an opportunity to discuss this topic with someone besides his mother or a physician had never presented itself beforehand. Maybe it would be cathartic.

"First of all," he began uneasily, "I'm not contagious. I suffer from a non-communicable disease…"

"What are your symptoms?" Desiree asked.

Lucian swallowed audibly. "I can't look at you."

"You can't look at me?" it echoed. "...Is that it?"

Nodding until realizing his blunder, Lucian made a face as he proceeded to backtrack and reexplain. "It's not just you. I can't look at this Ninetails either. If I do, I get sick...I-I'm sorry this is unfamiliar territory for me. It's hard to explain."

"So what...you just feel really awkward or anxious in social situations or something?"

"No, it's not a...a mental health issue. It's physiological…I think of it as some kind of an allergy. When I'm around Pokemon I...I feel like my head is going to explode."

"As far as you can tell, you're allergic to all kinds of Pokémon, yes?" the Officer Jenny asked him outright.

He nodded somberly. "Egg groups don't seem to matter. Fairy, Fire, Psychic, typing doesn't seem to either."

"Now it makes sense," the Jenny said, her lips forming a lopsided grin.

"What does?"

"Why you don't Train any Pokémon. After you passed out, we noticed there weren't any Pokéballs on your person. That's rare, especially for someone your age."

"Yup, I'm not just a pariah. I am the pariah. I've never trained a Pokémon, and probably never will unless someone in the pharmaceutical industry finds a cure. Problem is, I'm literally the only one suffering from this disease. The only funds that keep the research afloat come from my mother's wallet..." He stopped. The look the Officer Jenny betrayed was one he recognized. It was one he caught pinned on the face of his mother when her guard was down and she couldn't summon the strength to fake a reassuring smile.

Pity. Lucian despised that look most of all.

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me. Just do me a favor and return your Pokémon. That or…" he glanced down at the bed, "…leave. There's no point in keeping me company, anyways. You've got a job to do, and I'm just dead weight."

Officer Albina sat down on the bed next to him. "We're not going anywhere."

"You're welcome to stay," he said, sounding a little too hopeful, "…but they can't. It's just the way it has to be."

"I've got a better idea." Her lips creased into a smirk. "Come closer to me. I want to show you something."

Dabbing at the dampness manifest along his temple, he waggled closer to her on the bed. She met him halfway, wiggling her ass until their hips collided. When she turned to him, Lucian's heart began to race as he dared conceive of the salacious possibility that she was about to kiss him.

Instead, she removed her sunglasses.

Lucian gasped. He couldn't help it. "Your eyes…" he said, gawking at her naked face, "…are you wearing contacts?"

The policewoman giggled. Free at last, her crimson irises twinkled with a corresponding amusement. "Here, try these on," she stole one of his hands and folded his fingers over her glasses.

Staring at her for a few additional seconds, he at last pulled his gaze to the object sitting in his hand. "This is totally normal," he slipped them on, "wearing sunglasses - indoors. Uh, alright. Now what?"

"Look around," she said. "Take it all in."

He looked around.

"So, what do you think?"

"It's dark in here."

She shook her head. "No, no, you're still not getting it you silly Zangoose. Desiree, levitate over here."

Lucian's heart skipped a few beats. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched it slink ever nearer until it was right on his doorstep. Having nowhere else to look, he glared down at its feet; the pair of high-heel black leather boots levitated a couple of inches above the carpet.

"Look up," its Trainer suggested.

"I already told you, Officer. I can't. I'm allergic to your Pokemon."

"Just trust me."

The Pokemon's black boots wrapped tightly around its slender legs just below the knee. A swathe of complimentary black silk embraced the Pokémon's svelte figure going up. A decadently deep slit along the side of the fabric bared a distracting slice of skin that seemed to emit a pale glow akin to that of the moon. The remaining night of the gown sheathed its tight midsection and the modest bumps of its bosom, though a thin cut along the middle allowed for the protrusion of the prominent ventral fin characteristic of its species.

During this inspection, Lucian realized that 'It' was an inaccurate pronoun to describe a Gardevoir. This one was definitely female.

His vision embarked further up. Below sallow lips she sported a labret piercing. Skirting her eyes, he examined her hair. Unlike most Gardevoir, and Gallade for that matter, hers was blue.

Dangerously close now, he touched briefly upon her lavender eyeshadow before colliding with her amber eyes. There at last, he waited for the pain.

For some reason, the onslaught did not commence.

Any second now, he thought. The delay persisted, teasing him perhaps before delivering a fatal strike. Venturing in this off-limits piece of her visage, he soon got lost in it. Below the lavender makeup, her eyes were naturally bright, and yet, there was unmistakable dullness to them, as if they lacked any sort of glint. Refusing to dance, and rarely batting them, her eyes just sat there in their sockets, frozen solid.

For the first time in his life, Lucian experienced the joy of examining a Pokémon for an extended period of time. Lucky for him, judging from her expression she didn't seem to mind.

"So, what do you think?"

At last tearing his eyes away, he turned his undivided attention to the Officer Jenny. He wanted to thank her for this miracle. He wanted to jump for joy. He wanted to crumble to his knees and sob like a bitch.

"All these years…" he took the aviators off for a moment to inspect them. "How is this even possible?"

"Those are no ordinary glasses, Lucian. That visor was specially made for me. Or should I say, us."

The hairs on the back of Lucian's neck bristled. "What do you mean by us?"

She giggled. "It would seem you and I have something in common."

Lucian stared in disbelief. "Wait a second. You're saying you suffer from Pokémon Allergies just like me?"

She giggled again, but this time, it sounded rather sad. "Pokémon allergies. Hehe, I never thought of it like that. Still, it's an interesting appellation for our gift, and our curse."

When the tears began to flow, he allowed them to do so freely. "So... I'm not alone," he mouthed, unable to speak.

"Albina?" Soft and emotionless, it was the telepathy that belonged to the Gardevoir.

"You may speak, Desiree?"

"We've... got company."

With a jolt, Officer Albina sprang to her feet. "Sabrina?"

Lucian practically mirrored her reaction. "Mother!" he sniffled, rising up.

"No," Desiree said flatly. Slinking over to the window, she peeled back a sliver of the curtain and held it there for her Trainer to take a peek.

"Lucian," the police lady called after a few seconds, "I don't suppose you invited a bunch of your friends over for a little party?"

"I don't have any friends," he said robotically.

"Well then, you might want to take a look at this."

Interested, he joined the two of them by the curtain. Albina stepped aside, allowing him to take the spot by the window and peer through.

Already dusky outside, his new pair of sunglasses only obscured things even more. He squinted. Parked along the circular driveway were the silhouettes of two rectangular motor vehicles. One of the vans had carelessly, or perhaps deliberately, squashed a patch of the flower bed surrounding the marble fountain.

Lucian squinted again as his eyes detected the trace of movement. There was somebody down there. Instantly pusillanimous, he moonwalked away from the window. "You're right, there is someone out there..."

Burglars, possibly. Thank Arceus the Police are already here, he told himself.

"Desiree," Albina said calmly, "what's the chatter?"

The Gardevoir took a few seconds to respond until finally doing so through frozen lips.

"They're looking for a human male, age nineteen, with long violet hair." Her cold eyes unthawed and converged with Lucian's, who stared at her, unabated, through his glasses. "They're here for you," she told to him as their gaze continued to intertwine. "They have orders to find you, and take you."

"Me? Who...why...What do they want with me?" Shakily, he dug into his pockets. "Shit!"

"Looking for something?" the Officer Jenny asked after he dove onto his mattress and began sweeping around on hands and knees.

"My Holocaster," he panted, checking first beneath the sheet and then underneath the pillows. "I had it in my pocket earlier…shit! Where did it fall out?"

"You mean this thing?"

He glanced up. Sure enough, below glowing red eyes his Holocaster rested in her outstretched hand.

Every second counted. Luckily, his mom was on speed dial. "My mother can be here in, I don't know, twenty minutes," he said, his heart fluttering.

"Yes, contacting Sabrina is a good idea," the policewoman agreed. "I was about to suggest that very thing. We could use the reinforcements."

"Dammit!" he squawked.

"Bad news?"

"It went straight to voice mail…she must be embroiled in a Pokémon Battle."

The Officer Jenny took Lucian by the hand. Her clasp was awfully tight, and her nails digging into his palm stung something fierce. "Forget about her," she stressed. "For now, you're going to have to make do with the men and women in blue."

They abandoned the bedroom and maneuvered through a web of chambers and hallways. Despite the sense of urgency in her voice, the Officer Jenny led the way at an almost leisurely pace. Whether it was because she was impeded in heels or due to her having to take him along for the ride, Lucian wasn't sure. As a seasoned cop, maybe she was just that confident.

"Caught wind of anything significant, Desiree?"

"Yes, master," Albina's part-Psychic type answered casually. "It would appear the assailants are not anticipating a fight."

"Ah, that is interesting indeed. And for them, most unfortunate. Anything else?"

Levitating faithfully behind her Trainer, the Gardevoir ended up right beside Lucian. Bared above a black opera length glove, her narrow shoulder nearly grazed against his arm. Through his specialized glasses, he glanced in her direction. When he did, his gaze slammed into hers.

Her gaze drifted. "There's a lot of radiance over there. It's practically blinding. Even if I could isolate one of them, I wouldn't be able to glean very much. Not from this distance."

"Can you determine how many of them there are?" Lucian dared ask the Pokemon.

"I counted…Thirteen." She answered after a few moments.

They reached the railing leading to the winding stairwell and beyond that, the grandiose main lobby. "I have an idea…" Lucian said before shutting his mouth to quell his nerves. He hated how on edge he sounded. "If there's really...thirteen of them out there, we're outnumbered. Instead of facing them head on, we've got a panic room installed in the basement. All of us can hide down there until my mother gets here. I'll keep trying to contact her until she answers...or uh, until she turns her phone back on. It keeps going to voice mail..."

Click.

Lucian's gaze bounced from his Holocaster to the tiny yet high-pitched note that emanated from the first floor.

At that hushed juncture, the front door began to open. There was no forced entry of any kind. That click was the lock being disengaged.

From the second floor, Lucian watched, slack-jawed, as about a dozen men flooded through the wide-open entry. Most of them were covered in black from head to toe. About a third of the invaders were clad in silver suits of armor. Some of them had Pokéballs in hand. Others were equipped with illegal weapons; knives boasted by many of those shrouded in black, and as far as he could tell a scabbard was suspended from the belt of every single one of those fitted in silver armor.

"This is the police!" the Officer Jenny shrieked. Brazenly, she pointed her finger at the throng of intruders below. "Every single one of you is under arrest for the unlawful entry of this household. Drop your weapons and put your hands where I can see them. Comply immediately, or we will use force!"

Buoyant laughter echoed in the lobby. Clearly, her legal authority had fallen on deaf ears. One of the strange men paced out in front of the rest. He was a rather rotund fellow with a neatly trimmed goatee. Wearing a solid black overcoat, in his right hand he grasped what incredibly looked like a gun.

"This isn't what it looks like, Officer Jenny," he said, mischief oozing from his words. "I'll have you know that we've done nothing wrong." With his free hand, he held up something small and gold.

It was a key.

"No crimes being committed over here. We're family, see? That boy with the long hair is my cousin."

The Officer Jenny smacked Lucian with a stern look.

"You're lying," Lucian roared. "I've never met you before in my life."

"Oh, but we know you very well, Lucian. We've watched you grow up. Hell, we've watched over you. Because that's what family does. We take care of each other, no matter what." He waddled closer to the stairs. "To be honest, I'm surprised you called the police. What's it been, two or three hours since you last saw her?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You're mother. Aren't you wondering where she is?"

Lucian's lips began to spasm as new and very real possibility sunk its teeth into his cognition. The Police asking about his mother, and their insistence that she wasn't at the Gym. His calling her and her not answering. Straight to voice mail, as if her Holocaster's battery had died. Or been switched off. Or was in a place without service. Or maybe it had been smashed to bits.

He clutched at the railing and wrung it tightly. "Are you implying that you've… hurt my mother?"

The man laughed. "Relax, cousin. She is safe. She's just taking a little nap, that's all. You know, one of these days, you're going to thank us for this little intervention. Both you and Sabrina." He glanced over his shoulder and barked, "The boy is unarmed. He has a disability. And he's family. Be gentle, gentlemen."

"What about the blue bitch and that bodybuilder?" one of the men clad in armor asked.

"Who cares about the Jenny, I'm way more interested in what we should do with that Shiny Gardevoir!?" hollered a crazed-looking thug wielding a hatchet.

"Enough banter," the fat man giving the orders barked. "You know the drill. Kill these cops. Pocket their Monsters - they exist for our glory, after all."

Grinning eagerly and brandishing their weapons, the battalion of grunts marched towards the base of the staircase.

"Einstein!" Albina's voice rang.

His face flushing pink, the big guy let the bag he had hauled over his shoulder drop to the ground. After that, with lightning speed he began to undress. First, he removed his hat, revealing a wave of thick dark hair. Peeling off his navy jacket, he discarded it like it meant nothing to him. He then proceeded to remove all his upper garments until the muscles constrained and suffocating underneath bustled free. "I will erase them from your world," Lucian could have sworn he heard the guy whisper.

Without needing a command from her Trainer, Desiree glided to the top of the stairs next to Einstein. With the flick of her wrist, every single one of the intruders below were sent flying through the air. Their screams inundated Lucian's senses before and after their bodies were tossed around like ragdolls.

"Fucking Psychic bitch!"

For a moment, Lucian thought they might have a chance. Until the bruised and battered ragdolls picked themselves up. Lobbing Pokéballs like grenades, the exasperated thugs sent their own Pokémon into the fray. Strange, bestial sounds emanated below. If they weren't already hopelessly outnumbered before, a Raticate, Golbat, Mightyena, Beedrill, colossal Ursaring and an even bigger Bewear materialized to tip the odds against them even further.

The Gardevoir lifted her hand.

"No Desiree," her Trainer, Albina said softly. "That won't be necessary. Einstein can take it from here."

At a glance, the Gardevoir's face looked exactly as it always had. Like a fixed, snowy-white mask. The change that occurred lied in her eyes which now twinkled with some unnamed emotion.

"You don't want my help?" she asked.

"On the contrary, I need your help," Albina corrected her. "Just not here, with me. Right now, I need you to protect Lucian. Take him far away from this place. Our room at the Shining Hotel should be a nice safe spot. Can you do that for me?"

"You want me to travel with him, a human…alone?"

Her amber eyes slipped and landed on his vision. Certain that his eyes were well-hidden behind the rims of his sunglasses, Lucian wondered if the Psychic Pokemon was instead rifling through his thoughts and feelings. She probably had been for quite some time. On his end, he didn't need to read her mind to know she didn't want to leave when her Trainer needed her most.

"I'm not going to take your Gardevoir and run away," he said, speaking firm and from the heart. "Your Ninetails looks pretty tough and, uh, Einstein over there looks like he's on ster...err, like he hits gym every few hours... but there's no way they can hold these guys off all by themselves. Besides, this is my house and I intend to protect it. I might not have any Pokémon to fight for me, but I do have these." He held up his fists.

Officer Albina thrust a round object in those hands. It was a Pokéball. "You've got it all wrong," she said evenly. "Desiree is not my Pokémon. She is a slave to no one. Now, she did entrust me with her Pokéball which, mind you she isn't very fond of. As a gesture of good faith, I'm going to let you hold onto it for a while."

"Officer Albee–!"

"–Don't worry about me, Lucian," she said through a suicidal smile. "You have yet to meet the third and most powerful Pokémon I travel with. They might outnumber us, sure. But I assure you, these fools are hopelessly outclassed."

Absurd as it sounded, Lucian hoped she was telling the truth and not intent on going out in a blaze of sacrificial glory. "What's he doing?" he pointed to the topless monolith of muscle called Einstein. The guy had to have balls of steel, because then and there he began to descend the stairs, the same stairs the Ursaring was currently climbing. "Doesn't he have a Pokémon?"

"Why yes," Albina said curtly, "he's got a Monster of his very own of course."

"Is it strong?"

Her crimson irises gleamed. "Devilishly strong…now do me a favor and shut your pie hole. You two need to get out of here." She giggled. "Desiree, that's your cue to leave."

Lucian felt a diminutive hand latch onto his. At first, he thought it was the policewoman invading his personal space again. Wrong. This hand was slick as the satin fabric drawn over it.

"Well, I guess I have no choice," he heard the Gardevoir whisper inside his head. "You. Human. Don't let go of me until I say so." The fabric fitted over her hand was slippery enough that to not slide out of her grasp he really did have to keep a firm grip.

It happened within the blink of an eye. One second, they were cornered upstairs in his mother's house. The next, Lucian found himself standing on the not so familiar brick paver driveway in front of it. It was dark out, cold, and the bleak sky was pelting everything with a heavy rain. Shivering more so from his nerves running amok than anything else, he clutched closely at the source of heat levitating in front of him.

"Okay human, you can let go of my hand now. And relax. Your heart shouldn't beat that fast."

**Author's Note:**

> The first 3 chapters are complete. Chapters 2 and 3 will be coming soon. If things go as planned, I hope to be able to turn this work into an epic. Buckle up and enjoy!


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